


Untoten

by TheInfamousDoctorF



Category: Call of Duty Nazi Zombies
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Accents, Blowjobs, M/M, Racial slurs, blood-drinking, dubcon, roleplaying, zombie dissection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousDoctorF/pseuds/TheInfamousDoctorF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking zombie blood can have unexpected effects, but so can fucking your enemies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untoten

The zombie wasn’t able to feel pain, it could hardly move beyond gnashing its teeth in frustration. Its wrists, ankles, throat and waist were secured firmly to an old wooden table and viscera exposed to the air. What it could feel was anger; fury at the living human being who was daring to poke about in it’s torso with an incredibly sharp scalpel.  
Dr. Richtofen sighed. He’d decided to do a vivisection today both out of need and to alleviate his own lack of ideas. Nothing in the state of the zombies had changed; and they didn’t appear to be rotting despite the countless number of days they’d been on the human’s trail. Their blood was sluggish and rust colored from lack of oxygen, but it still somehow flowed. He looked at the blood beading on his gloves; the tiny 115 crystals were almost visible in bright light.  
Edward mused idly on the number of times he’d ingested that same thick blood, taking it in small doses to build his own immunity to the poison. Lacking the extensive facilities he’d had while forming his former enemies into super-soldiers, he was left with only the crudest methods to protect himself.  
The zombie clacked its jaws impotently, whispering for Sam.  
He drummed his fingers on the squishy gray flesh, whilst leaning on his other knuckle. The blood on his gloves smeared on his chin, but he didn’t really care, best to just get it over with. Rooting about in the exposed cavity of the undead he lifted up the spleen and cut it loose. Making a slice in either end he poured and squeezed it like a water-skin into his cupped hand, before lifting it for a drink.  
The taste was not wholly unpleasant; Richtofen had no issues with blood. But he would have much preferred the living blood of one of his Allies. The zombies tasted sour and the over-saturation of 115 caused a rather worrying, burning sensation in his mouth. It also made his eyes itch in an annoying way.  
Richtofen always made an extra effort to hide from the others when taking his ‘medicine’, but today he’d forgotten to gag the zombie he was dissecting. And he hadn’t counted on the preternaturally sharp ears of Tank Dempsey either.  
The Marine’s swagger into the room was stopped mid-stride by the gruesome sight that greeted him. The zombie was bleeding out on the table and Richtofen was seated with his back to the Marine and head low over the creatures exposed guts. A greeting died on his lips as what looked like a shriveled organ fell from the Doctor’s slack grip onto the floor with a splat. He felt his knees go weak as Richtofen exhaled like a death rattle. He took a step back, and then that head was turning. Dempsey shuddered as the eyes were revealed, glowing gold in the shadow of the German’s hat. The doctor’s face was slack and gray, his pointed nose and high cheekbones jutted unhealthily and his voice echoed with whispers.  
“Vhat’s wrong Dempshey? You look ill.”  
Everything in the American was screaming at him to run away, or put the horrible apparition before him out of his… out of ITS misery. But the thought that froze him was that none of them would have a chance without the Doctor. They were all as good as dead without a plan and someone to work the Nazi devices. And the ghastly figure was rising now, coming towards him. Disturbingly; Richtofen’s step still had the same cadence, free of the untoten’s pain-filled shuffle.  
“Dempshey?” He soundly vaguely worried now, “vhat is wrong vith you?”  
Tank raised his service pistol, aiming it not for the specter of his dead Allie, but turning it towards himself. The terrifying figure rushed him in sudden panic, hands naught but bone under leather tearing the gun from his hands and throwing it away. And then the zombie was shaking him, shouting. But he couldn’t make sense of it.  
“You are dead.” Tank managed to gasp. “No hope without you.” And then his eyes rolled back and he was gone.  
Richtofen slowly lowered the Marine to the floor before he could fall. Tank was out cold and he couldn’t understand why. The man had looked at the Doctor with such indescribable horror painted across his features.  
He looked down at his uniform, just as always; dotted with blood and small tears from undead claws. His clothing felt a little looser, but otherwise normal. Then something out of place drew his gaze… his cap should have cast a shadow on his chest, but it was lit with an extra light. He rubbed his stinging eyes in irritation and caught a glow reflecting off a clean patch on the leather.  
“Surely not,” he breathed. With an irritated snarl, Richtofen yanked boxes off shelves and dumped them in frustration; searching desperately for something that would show a reflection.  
Finally he found an instrument tray and buffed it with his sleeve. The terrible creature that stared back at him explained why the brash Marine had tried to end himself. Richtofen’s face was gray and sunken, his eyes glowing gold. In a panic he touched his hollow cheeks with fingers that seemed to slip inside gloves suddenly overlarge.  
He was used to the feeling of the poison in his system and he forced himself to calm down as the tingling and itching caused by the zombie blood slowly faded. He watched with trepidation as the normal pallor returned to his skin. He even tugged off a glove just in time to see the flesh plump and whiten as the grey slid down to his fingertips and disappeared.  
Dr. Richtofen had felt disconnected, nauseated and even flat out depressed while drinking zombie fluids before. But he’d chalked it up to his own poor mental state and never tried to look himself in the eye while doing it.  
Edward glanced over at Tank, still out cold. With a crackle of knees he sat down next to the soldier and idly ran a hand across his blond head. ‘Who knew zhe dummkoff valued my help so much?’ He chuckled darkly and leaned low over the prone man. Richtofen was sorely tempted to take a little blood while he had the opportunity, but his Allie waking up in a fairly good mood seemed more important.  
He ghosted his hand over the other mans pants, rubbing gently until they were beginning to tent. He whispered lovingly into Tank’s ear, trying to pitch up his voice and suppress his natural accent. “Oh, Mr. Dempsey, that was amazing. You’re so big and hot, wake up and make love to me again. Please. I want you inside me so badly. I need you.”  
Tank mumbled in his sleep and Edward had to suppress an impish giggle.  
“Yeah baby, you know I love it when you beg. Gonna do you all night long…. Zzzzz.”  
A chuckle slipped out unbidden and Richtofen patted Dempsey’s cheek with his hand. “Oh, vake up dummkoff.”  
Tank rolled over, snoring lightly. “Fuck off kraut,” he muttered “I got me a lady to tend too... mmmzzz. Unless you want next, get lost…zzzz.”  
Edward was genuinely smiling now. “Oh really?” he breathed, “would you just ‘do me’ for bothering you Dempshey?”  
Richtofen’s comment ended in a squeak due to the Marine’s hand wrapped almost around his throat. Tank looked more relieved then angry and he relaxed into the other man’s grip with an irritating grin.  
“No,” he growled, “but I might mess you up if you don’t have a good explanation for why I caught you eating a zombie. Are you just trying to kill yourself at this point?” He shook the Nazi in his fist, “we need you dammit.” He let go of Richtofen, who gasped in relief.  
The German rubbed his throat, “I keep telling you, I don’t have vhat you have. I have to build up an immunity to zhe 115 any way I can to keep from being turned.” He paused, “I just didn’t know I looked like… that while doing it. Sorry Dempshey.”  
Tank gave him a sour look, “you scared the fuck out of me, you old bastard.”  
“Vhell, if you and the others veren’t still so mad about zhe 935 project, and were willing donors; I vouldn’t have to drink cold zombie blood to keep up with you.”  
Tank coughed, nearly retching. “Is THAT what you were doing?!”  
The Nazi folded his arms defensively. “Ve all do what we have too, in order to survive. If you won’t help me, you can at least spare me your judgmental attitude.”  
Dempsey felt sick. He knew all too well what people would do when there was no other choice. His own time as a POW had shown him exactly what horrors he was capable of. And though the German regularly pissed him off, he was still a member of their team, even the unofficial leader most of the time.  
He looked at the zombie on the table; it still twitched feebly, letting out quiet moans and frightful whispers. Edward followed his gaze. “Zhere’s something almost beautiful about zhat level of wrack and ruin, ja?”  
The Marine shivered with revulsion. “What’s it like?” He asked quietly.  
“It’s cold and thick,” Richtofen replied. “It tastes like iron and poison and a creeping chemical heat that burns your mouth and eyes.”  
“And what’s the alternative?”  
The Nazi regarded his former test subject with a touch of sadness. “Blood from you, or Takeo, or Nikolai, or… I become one of them.”  
Richtofen let the silence stretch between them. This was probably the best chance he’d get to coax one of his Allies into being a willing donor. And Tank was also the best candidate for the job; he’d only need a small dose to protect him for quite some time.  
“I’m not real fond of needles Doc…”  
Edward felt a surge of hope rising and he stamped it down with iron boots. “I don’t need a needle, I can lap from the source if you can tolerate my lips on your skin. Three good swallows vould keep me safe for almost a month.”  
“Yeah, but; even if you need it, you’ll still get your rocks off causing me pain and I’ll hate every minute of it. So I think maybe I should get something out of this.”  
There it was; Edward slumped his shoulders in defeat. “Vhat can I give you Dempshey? Apart from vhat’s left of mein dignity, my ammo, points, perks, you’d only make me more in need of your protection in battle. I have nothing else.”  
“Well…” the blonde lifted himself to a sitting position and turned to face his sometimes foe. “How about giving me- you?”  
Richtofen spit in fury, “as vhat? Your slave?! I’d rather be a vampire to zombies then your lapdog.”  
Tank grinned lecherously. “As if I’d try and break such a perfectly fiery spirit. That would be a disgrace. I may not find the zombies as beautiful as you do, but I also appreciate something that’s been artfully ruined.” His gesture encompassed the whole of Richtofen, who was still trembling slightly. “I was thinking something a little more carnal…”  
The older man was red-faced and frustrated. Edward had half a mind to walk out there and then. It was the horrible death-gurgle of the zombie that stopped him, and the lingering sting of untoten blood in his system. His dignity seemed less and less valuable as the conversation progressed. Richtofen sighed in resignation; his current activities were unpleasant enough and varied enough in effectiveness that he’d probably end up eventully giving in to whatever the American proposed anyway. His tone was bitter. “So is zhis vhat it comes to Dempshey? I give you my mouth, my arshe, the use of my body in exchange for my life?”  
Tank frowned, “damn you make it sound terrible when you put it that way. I may be younger then you, but I’ve been around the block a few times. I can help you enjoy it too. I was just trying to think of something nice you could do for me. Are you any good at giving massages?”  
“I’m not that kind of Doctor Dempshey. I’m a plastic surgeon, so unless you vant your face rearranged in a more pleasing configuration, you’re out of luck.” He folded his arms in defiance. “I’m sorry I asked, just leave me alone. I’ll make do on my own like I always have.”  
Tank regarded the irritated Doctor. Richtofen reminded him of nothing so much as a petulant rooster. Fluffed up with pomp and flair and brooding in an angry little ball. He scooted closer to the older man who cast suspicious eyes on him. Men were not Tank’s specialty, but he also wasn’t a terribly picky person when it came to sex. And while no one would really call the German handsome, he had a dignified air about him and in Dempsey’s opinion; a terrific ass.  
Tank stretched out his legs and patted his lap meaningfully.  
“Nein.”  
“Please? I mean, how many times did you experiment on me without even asking for my permission? At least give me a chance. If you hate it I won’t bother you again, I promise. You always demand that I trust you and you never give me any in return.”  
Sensing that the Marine’s continued trust and goodwill was probably worth more then his pride, Edward gave up.  
With a sour growl the doctor straddled the soldiers lap and sat down. He could already feel Tank rising up underneath him, pressing meaningfully between his cheeks; only their respective pants between him and certain violation of his most tender parts.  
“There you go,” Tank cooed sweetly. He put his hands on the Doctors hips and slid them back to cup his ass cheeks, kneading the firm flesh with his fingertips. He leaned forward, trying not to look too eager. Then he moved his hands sensually up Edward’s back as the other man twitched under his touch. Dempsey put a finger beneath the knot of the German’s tie and tugged it lightly. “Any chance of you showing me what’s under all this?”  
Richtofen stiffened uncomfortably, but forced his hands to obey as he undid his suspenders and jacket and pulled his tie off. Dempsey helped him undo the tiny buttons on his once-white dress shirt and all was revealed. Tank couldn’t help but stare, even though he sensed his reluctant partner’s discomfort.  
The man was thin, and starkly pale below his collar, only a few stray curls of graying hair grew over the curves of his ribs. But it was the scars that caused the Marine to stare. He found himself wondering how such a frail creature could survive so much abuse. There were fractals from electricity, long whip-like curves, cuts and scratches, animal bites, and the starry puckers of healed bullet wounds.  
“Doc…” Tank whistled.  
Richtofen gave him a piercing stare, “ja, I’m hideous. I don’t want to hear about it from the likes of you.”  
“Quite the contrary, Doc, did I ever tell you I have a thing for scars?” Edward’s brusque reply was cut off as the Marine ducked forward and laid a hot tongue against one of the larger marks. He dragged it wet and slow as the Nazi cheeped in alarm. So sensitive from lack of human contact that he was shaking. Tank pushed harder as if he were trying to clean the old wounds with his mouth, tracing the path of the myriad scars up to the older mans neck. He pulled Richtofen closer to him, mouthing and licking the German’s throat as he moaned softly. “Just push me away if you don’t want it, say the words and I promise I’ll stop Doc.”  
Edward’s voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t you dare stop Dempshey.” He could feel the blonde smiling, the lips pressed up against his neck curving in delight. Strong hands undid his pants and delved beneath his tattered boxers, lifting him up and kneading his rump insistently.  
Richtofen would never admit it, but there was a tiny part of the Nazi, a core of self-loathing for all the evil he’d committed that wanted, needed, this debasement. Craved the whip, chain and due penance for the man he’d once been. He forced himself to push away and remove his pants to give the American better access. There were no words, and stripped of clothing and pretense; he simply settled back down into the lap of his Allie and resolved to trust the meathead for once.  
Tank grinned impossibly wide, lifting the German to this knees so he could shuck off his own pants. His voice was husky, “I think you’ll like what I’m offering Doc.”  
Richtofen risked a glance at the other man’s instrument and found he was unable to look away. True to his name, Tank was big. ‘And he wanted to put that…?’  
“Easy, easy, Doc, don’t panic over litt’le olde me. It works if you take it slow.” He peppered the Doctor’s heaving chest with kisses, “and I intend to take it very slowly.” Dempsey spit on his hand and maneuvered it underneath the pliant German. Richtofen bit his lip as he felt one of the Marine’s large, slickened fingers pressing against his hole. But Tank made no attempt to breach him, merely swirled around the sensitive flesh, poking and pressing on it lightly.  
Edward wanted to move so badly, any human touch was intoxicating and it had been so long since anyone wanted him in a physical way. His nerves were sending waves of strange pleasure and he could feel his hips straining to rock down onto that cold wet finger without his permission. His want was palpable, his own member straining and weeping clear tears onto the blonds rippling abdomen. Finally, he could take the teasing touches no more; he pressed himself down and felt the long digit slide into him like a key into a greased lock.  
Tank held still for a million years while Richtofen trembled upon his upraised finger, every neuron screaming for movement or release. Then he ventured a kiss on the Doctor’s open mouth, holding them steady while Edward beat out a slow pace against Dempsey’s hips. Greedily they explored the others mouth with their tongues, saliva dripping down both their chins. The blonde pulled out a little and Richtofen whined embarrassingly without meaning too, before another finger was wiggled into the same space as the first.  
Dempsey couldn’t think of grouchy old Richtofen as beautiful, but there was something ethereal about the rapture on his face. The youth groped up inside, scissoring and stretching his fingers to find just the right place; opening the Doctor as he whimpered and gyrated to the rhythm of Dempsey probing him.  
Richtofen shrieked as the orgasm rippled without warning through his form, he came and kept coming in short bursts across the hairy chest of his foe, before his arms gave way and left him slumped across the other man’s chest. He was panting and sweaty, unable to form words, even when he felt the fingers withdraw from his rear.  
Tank’s gravely voice pierced his post coital haze. “Ready for something a little more substantial?” He nodded, it was just auto-pilot at this point; the American was the one in control. And then he felt it with a jolt, oh God, Tank was big. The broad head breached his tight entrance and it was like being gently ripped in half. He was keening now, over-stimulated in the extreme and unable to tell pleasure from pain. It just kept going, sliding into him forever, and when he was sure he could take no more- he felt the press of Dempsey’s warm, furry balls against the prickling flesh of his bare buttocks. Edward’s fingers scrabbled meaninglessly across the Marine’s chest. He was falling, so impossibly full and straining, his muscles fluttering around the overlarge intrusion.  
Tank was shaking too; he never dreamed that fucking Richtofen could feel so good. The man was tight as hell and making a face as though he was accepting the world’s largest cock. No woman had ever reacted that way, and it made Dempsey feel like a porn star. He beamed proudly, “enjoying yourself cupcake?”  
But the Doctor was beyond speech, he heard the Tank’s words dimly through a haze of lust and pleasure. Richtofen was adjusting, making way for his Allies spear. It was pressing against something that felt amazing, but everything else as well. The Nazi was half afraid that if he looked down he’d see a bulge in his belly where the other man’s dick was pushing his organs upward. But as soon as the pain faded to a dull ache, he began to move, rocking and moaning wantonly as he rode the Marine’s cock with increasing abandon.  
Tank swore in ecstasy, his grip bruising the Nazi’s lightning scarred hips as he helped the Doctor ride him. “I hope you’re ready for this princess; because I’m about to fill you to the brim of that Stasi hat.”  
Edward groaned and growled incoherently before panting out; “Mein Gott. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.” Tears streamed down the Doctor’s face and even he wasn’t aware if they were borne of pain or relief. He buried his face in Tank’s neck, drunk on pheromones and carnal lust.  
Then Dempsey felt it building inside him fit to burst. No woman could ever ride him like that. The Nazi’s ass was hungry for his dick, and every downward thrust was like warm lips sucking him in deeper. He pulled Richtofen down onto his dick as hard as he could, bound and determined to give the needy man everything he could offer. The Doctor screamed in shock as cum spurted into his bowels, spiraling through another orgasm that left him shivering. Tank caught him as he toppled and held him close. Both of them were a mess, smeared with mud and sweat but he didn’t care and he was pretty sure the Doctor was beyond caring about anything apart from the loss of his anal virginity. He lifted Richtofen slightly and let his softening cock slip from the man’s gaping ass. Edward shuddered as cum leaked out of his rear, and he tried to focus on coming down from the cloud his mind was currently on. The American was holding him gently, warm skin against his suddenly chilly frame.  
Tank risked running a hand through his partner’s dark hair. “Hey Doc, you doing okay?”  
The German’s reply was muffled against the Marine’s thick neck, “apart from feeling deflowered und incredibly filthy, ja. I’ll live.”  
“Hmmph.” Tank took a deep breath, “I think you smell amazing at least. I like the scent of sweat and arousal. It’s honest and it gets the toxins out of your system.”  
Richtofen shot up in a panic. ‘The dummkoff was right! He could already feel the fade of what he’d taken from the zombie as he sweated the poison out of his pores.’ He snatched at his jacket, fumbling frantically in the pockets. The light glittered off a scalpel and Tank panicked underneath him.  
“WHOAH, hold up Doc! No need for that!”  
“I have too!” Richtofen wailed urgently, “you wasted what I ingested with all that adrenaline! I need that blood right now!”  
He brandished the scalpel and drew an angry red line across one of Tank’s pectorals. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Tank slammed a meaty fist against the floor, but made no move to resist, “God-dammit that fucking hurts! Bastard kraut!” He ground his teeth with a snarl as he tried to ignore the stinging pain.  
“Sorry Dempshey, I don’t want to die today,” and then the Doctor was down. He lavished the long cut with his lips, kissing, sucking and bathing it as the blood beaded up on the surface; parting the skin and penetrating the wound to make it bleed more. Tank squirmed under him as Richtofen tongue-fucked his wound. The power of the pure infected blood flooded his mouth and flowed through his bones. It was metallic and hot and made him tingle down to his toes. When he’d had his fill he allowed his head to roll sideways, letting the blood trickle down the slope and pool against his lips. “Oh, Dempshey, you taste like being alive,” he crooned in pure joy.  
The sight of the doctor’s wild eyes and blood-smeared face chilled Tank, but before he could really panic, the man was climbing off of him, wiping his face and whistling merrily. The Nazi turned back and offered him a hand. Both of them were appallingly dirty and Tank almost slid out of the Doctor’s bloody grip trying to stand. His knees were shaking as Edward led him over to a cracked counter and turned on the tap.  
The water was cold and both of them took turns pouring it from a dented pan over the others head, until both were shivering but acceptably clean. There wasn’t much to say.  
Finally Dempsey broke the silence. “So… was that a fair enough trade?”  
Richtofen considered the vague feeling of emptiness in his rear and hitherto unknown pleasures of having his prostate repeatedly jabbed.  
“Ja… I guess. Especially since you know I had no real choice in the matter.”  
Dempsey frowned. “Are you angry with me?”  
“Nein, I’ve just had far too much experience with people telling me what to do. I’d like to feel like I have a least a little bit of control over my life.”  
Tank thought for a long moment and then shrugged. “Okay.”  
“Vhat? Okay? What are you talking about Dempshey?”  
“I don’t give a fuck, I just like to get laid. If you need me to play games with you so you feel comfortable, I’m up for that. As long as we both get to the finish line, it’s all the same to me. I’ll even suck you off if it means I can get some ass.”  
The Doctor reddened slightly, “Dempshey…”  
The Marine shrugged, ‘Who cares right? What’s the point in standing on formalities when civilization itself seems to have collapsed? It’s the end of the world, might as well enjoy the time we got left. I bet you a deutschmark Takeo and Nikolai have been getting it on for a while now.”  
Tank advanced on the smaller man and wrapped his arms around him, “I like a challenge, and a war-scarred fireball like you fits the bill very nicely.” He cupped Richtofen’s chin in one meaty paw and looked at his astonished face. “To be honest, I’m more bi for the convenience factor, but you’re something else Doc. Those little streaks of silver in your hair, pretty pale flesh and those bright green eyes you keep so artfully hidden under your cap...” He placed several kisses on the Doctor’s sharp cheekbones; mouthing over his markings. “You’ve got an ass that won’t quit and the scars are just a bonus. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your pants for a while. I just figured, well, Nazis aren’t renowned for tolerating gays.” Dempsey rubbed his neck self-consciously, “I didn’t think I’d have a snowball’s chance unless you owed me.”  
Richtofen was just staring at the Tank blankly. The Marine patted the man’s shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “Hey, Doc, I don’t want to fuck you up any more then you already are. I’m not going to make you whore yourself out just to save your life. I’ll give you what you need with no strings if you don’t want to play with me. We’re a team, and I need to know I can count on you.”  
“Dempshey?”  
“Yeah, Doc?”  
“I’m cold.”  
“Riiight.”  
Edward mulled over the soldier’s words as his clothes were rounded up and presented to him. Dempsey seemed cowed and totally unsure of the situation. The two put on their gear in silence; and only when the Doctor was fully dressed did he speak again.  
“Sergeant Dempshey! You have been captured by the German army and charged vith several counts of espionage. You are also guilty of being an American und snapping the necks of a dozen guards. For zhis you must be punished”  
Tank stared at him in shock for a moment and then grinned before getting down on his knees. “Oh, sir, please don’t torture me anymore sir! I’ll do whatever you say!”  
Richtofen beamed, with deft motions he unbuttoned his pants and exposed himself. Dempsey shuffled closer, trying not to show his internal mirth outwardly. He put his hands on the doctor’s hips and looked upward with his best puppy-dog eyes. “Do I have to?” he begged shamelessly. “It would be such a disgrace for a Marine to suck Nazi cock!”  
Edward’s grin was from ear to ear, “you should have thought of zhat sooner, young man. Now suck! Or I’ll have you horse-whipped.”  
Tank resisted the urge to laugh, he’d seen Richtofen in ‘authority mode’ and that was terrifying. This was just the Doctor being a smart-ass in a good mood and it was as refreshing as it was ballsy. Gingerly and with feigned reluctance; Dempsey put his mouth around the German’s rising cock. He made a show of mumbling some pathetic pleas for mercy before getting down to business with his tongue. Before long Richtofen had to sit down on the low counter to avoid falling, and he was twitching and moaning as the eager American suckled his manhood. He even gave a few weak thrusts to make Dempsey pretend to choke on his cock. And every few beats, Tank would look up for a moment to enjoy the sight of the straight-laced German convulsing in pleasure as he was blown by his foe.  
“Oh, Dempshey, I’m about to…”  
“I got it cupcake.”  
Just for the look of the thing, Dempsey let go of the doctor’s cock and pumped the last few times with his fist. He stayed close and let the salty fluid spray artfully across his lips. Edward looked down to see what he’d done and his eyes sparkled like he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with the hardened soldier he’d just given a facial.  
Dempsey pretended to be sickened and curled up on the floor as if he were terminally embarrassed and debased. He winked at Richtofen, who smirked.  
“Okay, ham-bone, you can get up now.”  
Tank washed his face, still grinning like he’d won the lottery. “I still think you’re a sick son-of-a-bitch Doc, but that was fun. Next time, maybe I can ‘capture’ you?”  
Edward quirked an eyebrow at the delicious thought, and echoed Dempsey’s broad smile; “I’ll sink about it.”


End file.
